


Brothers In Arms - Cabin Pressure

by starkind



Series: Iron Wings Collection [8]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Hurt Tony Stark, IronBat - Freeform, M/M, Married Couple, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Military Backstory, Military Jargon, Protective Bruce Wayne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27458602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkind/pseuds/starkind
Summary: Tony agrees to test-fly an F-35 - with precarious consequences
Relationships: Tony Stark/Bruce Wayne
Series: Iron Wings Collection [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/231990
Comments: 25
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This part only exists because I listened to 'Ravaged skies' by Mitch Murder, which is a synthwave/retrowave track that features a sample of a real-life pilot convo during an engine failure of a F-16. Also, I have read stuff about faulty F-35s, so this was born. (links at the end)

The whole thing started during one of Tony's entrepreneurial visits to the Luke Air Force Base in Arizona in 2013. After over a decade of Stark Industries' endeavor to establish a nationwide military network as its main supplier, Tony himself still made a point in attending certain AF bases in person. He liked getting down to the nitty-gritty which sometimes even meant getting your hands dirty inside an F100-PW-200 engine.

Yes, despite all the years, Tony Stark’s hands-on mentality and inventor spirit still needed to flourish and soar instead of having to sit through hour-long business meetings about acquisition processes and legal matters. On the other hand, his husband of almost five years never accompanied him during those appointments; calling them 'selling soap' with a disgusted expression to match whenever the issue came up.

No, Captain Bruce Wayne had long since decided his place within their business collaboration was behind a desk. Despite not wanting to at first, he had become versed in strategic planning, cash flow management, and profitable ratios. His cunning expertise had helped to rebuild and establish Wayne Enterprises as one of the leading brands for technological development within the field of military aerospace.

It had, ultimately, only been a matter of time until Tony had bestowed the majority of Stark Industries’ business into his capable hands as well. Over time, they both had accepted and eased into their respective roles, even if Tony still loved to occasionally tease Bruce about becoming a desk jockey in a fancy three-piece suit after all.

Back at Luke Base, inside a bland office space with a softly-whirring overhead fan, Tony shook the hand of a tall man with a crisp haircut and a neatly-trimmed mustache. “Captain Stark, pleasure to meet you. Major Glenn Talbot. We've heard about your ambitious plans for a new line of next-level helicopters.” Tony gave a one-shouldered shrug he paired with a charismatic smile. “Maybe, maybe not. Why, you’re interested?”

Talbot interlaced his fingers atop the desk.

“Actually, we're more concerned with the problems of the upcoming series of the F-35.”

“Oh?”

“The Lightning II is supposed to make its first appearance here. In less than ten months, 144 F-35s will be assigned to our base.”

Tony, always quick to read between the lines, was just as quick to put up a nonchalant expression.

“Think back to the year 2000. I said I can build an airplane that is stealthy, has vertical takeoff and landing capabilities, and can go supersonic. Most people in the industry told me it was impossible, but here we are. The F-22's still going strong even after over a decade. And now you're telling me you need help with the epic clusterfuck that is the F-35?” Tony's voice was leveled. Talbot gave a liminal tilt of the head.

“Your company has always been leading the technological aspect of aerial superiority, Captain.”

The edge of Tony's bearded upper lip curled into a sneer. “Stark Industries was able to provide the technology to bring all of that to the table thirteen years ago, in a single platform even. Anyone knows the Raptor was beyond the reach of the industry at that time.” Major Talbot nodded, albeit joyless. “And yet the supposed Stark Industries F-35 production line never happened.” Tony's smile turned diffuse.

“What happened is that I stood by my opinion on how design specifications demanded by one branch of the military would negatively impact the F-35’s performance in another area and vice versa. Didn't sit too well with a couple of high-ranked guys, so they decided to give the deal to Hammer Industries. No wonder the plane is shit. End of story.”

Talbot looked as if he tried hard not to speak his mind. Eventually, though, he gave a rather nasty smile. “What if I told you the next batch of F-35 could go exclusively to Stark Industries? Current... contracts are not to be renewed if the grapevine at the DoD and the Pentagon is to be believed.”

All dauntless and unflappable, Tony bared white teeth at him. “Tell me something I don't know.” Nothing on the Major's face changed. “You made the F-22 deal over a decade ago. 70 billion dollars or what was it again? Think about the possibilities now. A single F-35 roughly sits at $107 million today.” It prompted a dirty-sounding chuckle from the man across the desk. “I'm not in it for the moola, Talbot, c'mon.”

Said Major continued to smile at him, and it was slowly but surely creeping Tony out. “I am not appealing to your overabundance of wealth, I'm appealing to the pilot in you, Captain Stark. You'd have the possibility to save lives out there. If you’re still as good as they say.” Tony averted his gaze to glance out to where the airfield lay glittering in the sun. Eventually, he clicked his tongue.

“I'll call ya.”

+

Two weeks later, Tony strolled across the same tarmac again, that time wearing flight gear instead of a designer outfit, and a $400,000 helmet underneath his arm. He had told his husband there were several details to discuss, with the opportunity to seal a lucrative deal for both Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises. What he had carefully left unmentioned was his agreement to do a test flight of an F-35 prototype.

Knowing Bruce, Tony was certain he would either have wanted to take on the job himself or would have talked him out of it. Neither option was in Tony’s best interest. Talbot had appealed to his technical genius and his engineer heart, and this was an opportunity Captain Tony Stark was not about to let slip.

The sun was shining out of a near-cloudless sky as he pulled down his aviator shades to squint at the heavy aircraft looming up in front. Even from afar, the F-35 had many traits comparable to the F-22 Raptor, and he smiled darkly to himself at Hammer copycatting his design.

Two airmen stood in the aircraft's shadow, wearing headphones and blank expressions. They saluted and shook hands with him before he started the pre-flight routine with a quick visual tour around the aircraft. Tony ran his fingertips along the thick metal hull, humming under his breath. He caught himself glimpsing over his shoulder, expecting to see Bruce doing the same to his aircraft before remembering he was alone today.

With a thumbs up at the airmen, Tony eventually climbed up the ladder and got seated. After adjusting the high-end helmet with its panoramic cockpit display, he patiently sat through the marshalling process until the crew chief gave him the all-clear.

“Entering Arizona airspace. Current altitude: 20,000 feet. Windspeed: Nominal.”

After pulling up in a maximum afterburner takeoff, Tony went through a couple of steep turns and barrel rolls to get used to the response and feel of the aircraft before going into a high-speed pass and a maximum climb maneuver at 750 mph. Upon reaching the outer limits of Arizona's airspace, the air conditioning stopped without warning. A shrill tone enunciated in his headset and blinked up on the prototype HUD.

The idea of a helmet-mounted display system was something Tony had taken an instant liking to, even it now displayed bad news.

“The fuck, you overpriced piece of sh-”

Tony seethed under his breath as he maintained aircraft control and overlooked the system controls. The words **IPP FAIL** blinked back at him, along with an advisory telling him he was now using the auxiliary oxygen bottle instead of the on-board oxygen generation system. “Lightning II to base, I've got a situation. The integrated power package just fizzled out.”

Ground control was in his ear less than a second later, and Tony recapped his current problem. He previously had studied all available blueprints and technical data regarding the aircraft and knew a loss of the power package meant a loss of numerous other functions, including cabin pressurization and backup generator power. A quick back and forth brought no other choice for Tony but to recap and act out the offered solution.

“Heading for below 17,000 feet. Switching to backup oxygen system. Trying to trigger an engine reset and hope for the best.”

“Affirmative, Captain Stark.”

With an eye out on the fast-dwindling cabin pressure, Tony flipped the necessary switches and made adjustments. He was certain he was not yet feeling the effects of it, but then again, abrupt loss of pressurization was a serious issue that incapacitated even the most experienced pilots. Before he had even made it to 15,000 feet, there was a composed, yet urgent-sounding voice in his ears.

“Ground control to Lightning II. You’ve got fire coming out of your engine.”

Stupefied, Tony squinted at the control panel in front. Nothing showed up on his readouts. Once again, ground control rustled over the comm. “Captain Stark, Major Talbot here. Do you copy?” Tony dry-swallowed and gripped the controls. “Copy. Initiating emergency descent pattern.”

“Get down to 10,000 feet and wait for clearance. The tarmac is being cleared as we speak.”

Tony nodded, only to remember he was not on visual. He murmured an affirmative statement and tried to quell the growing, wonky feeling behind his eyes. The F-35’s systems still did not alert him about any onboard fires, and part of him wondered if he had just imagined Talbot saying that. His visual field had started to more and more appear to scintillate, and he squinted, hard, blinking the green-lettered, digital HUD back into focus.

“Roger that.”

+

Tony experienced the following events in a strange, out-of-body experience. He saw himself going through the motions of bringing the F-35 safely down; his body acting on decades of experience even while his head felt wrapped in cotton wool. He jerked into a state of semi-consciousness when the front wheel collided quite hard with the ground and realized the loud, constant beep was the aircraft's master caution alarm.

Most of the post-flight procedures went over his head after that. Someone pulled him from the cockpit and got him into horizontal in the shadows of the F-35. Disembodied hands relieved him of the helmet, unzipped and unfastened the harnesses and straps until they exposed the completely soaked-through shirt he wore underneath. A shiver ran through him as fresh air hit his face. The tarmac was hot and smelled of fumes.

Tony fought down a gag and clumsily reached up to divest himself of the restricting G-suit, but failed.

“Can’t. Breathe.”

He heard and felt the constriction in his labored panting.

“Easy, Captain. EMTs are already here.”

A blurry silhouette bent over him, put a medical oxygen mask over his face, and clipped something to his index finger. There was a bit of rustling and when he reopened his eyes, it was to the ceiling of an ambulance. There was no siren blaring and for a moment, Tony was not even sure they were moving. “Captain, I need you to lie still, please.” A female voice, accompanied by a gentle touch on his upper body.

“Mhm.”

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Tony already dreaded the discussion he and Bruce were going to have.


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce glanced up from his notebook as his stomach gave a soft rumble.

He had been working from the Malibu mansion all afternoon, waiting for Tony to come home for dinner. A look at the clock on the wall told him their official dinnertime had already passed about an hour ago. He reached for his nearby mobile phone to see if he had missed a text or something, which was not the case. Just when Bruce had put the phone aside to resume his work, its screen lit up with an incoming call.

Only it was not Tony's mobile number but an unfamiliar landline from Arizona.

“Wayne.”

“Captain Wayne? This is Major Glenn Talbot, USAF. I am calling to notify you about an incident involving your husband here at Luke Air Force Base.”

With his blood pulsating loudly in his ears, Bruce got up from the barstool and walked into the living room.

“What kind of incident?”

“A fire occurred in the aircraft's weapons bay forcing Captain Stark into an emergency landing.”

That prompted Bruce to stop dead in his tracks.

“Aircraft? What kind of aircraft?”

“I am sorry I cannot tell you more on the phone, Captain Wayne. However, Captain Stark has...”

“Was he hurt? Where is he?”

“... been able to safely land the aircraft by himself and only required minor...”

Bruce's eyes narrowed.

“Where. Is. He?”

As always in dire situations, his voice dropped into its deeper vocal ranges, coming off like a growl. It was, however, Talbot who cleared his throat.

“He has been brought to our hospital for mandatory observation.”

“I am heading over.”

“Of course, Captain. Allow me to repeat, however, that this is no medical emergency, and-”

The line clicked as Bruce Stark-Wayne hung up.

+

Once he had arrived at Luke's two hours later on a hastily chartered private jet and in civil clothes, Bruce scowled his way through several instances at the Air Force hospital until he was told to wait in an empty area. After twenty minutes, the head nurse finally took pity on him and approached his brooding aura with a de-escalating smile. “Captain Wayne? We are still monitoring your husband but you can go in if you like."

Bruce got to his feet, instantly making him at least seven inches taller than her.

"What's wrong with him?"

The nurse pulled out the clipboard tucked under an arm and flipped it open. "Captain Stark experienced myocardial irregularities as a consequence of sudden hypoxia. There were nonlinear dynamics showing up on the electrocardiogram which is why we are still running tests of his respiratory and heart rhythms. During the past hour, there have been no further anomalies. If nothing changes, he is allowed to leave tonight."

The first thing Bruce saw, once he had thrust the door open, was his husband sitting propped up in a single bed, hooked up to a couple of different monitors and apparatuses. He was awake and looking rather pale, which could have been due to the cold ceiling light, conversing with his current visitor. Immediately, Tony’s eyes flew towards the person entering the room; relief and part-contrite warring on his face.

Bruce briefly allowed his gaze to travel over to the stranger. Judging by the uniform and the man's thinly-veiled reproach at having to witness a homosexual display of affection, Bruce figured it was the Major who had been calling him earlier that evening. Completely uncaring about their audience, he crossed the distance to the bed in three long strides. As if on cue, Tony held up a hand, displaying tubes and cables attached to it.

“Hold your horses, babe, I'm fine. Nothing serious. Just a precautionary measure, and there's...”

The rest of his sentence got muffled as Bruce leaned in, took his face in between two gentle palms, and kissed him.

“Damn it, Tony.”

It was more of an angry whisper, spoken in between their still-touching foreheads as he held on tight, thumbs caressing the skin behind Tony's ears. When Bruce reopened his eyes, his husband was studying him; his eyes unbelievably large and brown from close up. “Later, babe. Okay?” Mouth curled in dismay, Bruce steeled his features, nodded, and drew back.

“You must be Captain Wayne.”

Straightening up and squaring his broad set of shoulders, Bruce turned around.  
  
“And you are the person responsible for the accident I take it.”

From where the other man had been about to extend a hand, he stopped and gave a simple, very small tilt of the head. “Major Glenn Talbot. What happened up there was no one's fault.” He and Bruce locked eyes for a few long moments. Bruce's gaze then slid down to his husband. “So what did happen?” Tony shifted, albeit with care not to upend the ECG's electrodes attached to his chest underneath the hospital gown.

“Tailwinds forced hot air into the inlet of the jet's IPP is my best guess. Since the weapon bay doors are open during the start, fire spreads easily to panels, cables, and components.” Bruce's gaze was downright murderous as it found Talbot again. “Why doesn't that show up on the pre-flight checklist?” The Major remained impassive. “It's a known potential hazard among officials overseeing the F-35 program. It usually goes well.”

Seeing Bruce looked as if he was about to jump into his face, Tony grabbed a hold of his left hand and interlaced their fingers. “As I was gonna add: The bird's heavily automated. Too heavily. You see green lights flashing all over and get lulled into a sense of complacency. That's gotta change.” Major Talbot clasped his hands behind his back.

“You were able to land safely, which suggests the aircraft's ability to fly wasn't too badly compromised-”

At that, Bruce effectively pulled free from the grip Tony had on him and pointed at the Major's chest. “You've exposed my husband to a well-known, direct risk and have the audacity to argue about maneuverability?” His tone made Talbot unclasp his hands, though he stood his ground. “I dare to assume that a pilot less-versed than Captain Stark might... not have been so lucky. Theoretically.” Bruce's jaw was set at a terse angle.

“Few pilots are as versed as Captain Stark, so your mismanagement is going to cost lives.”

They were nearly standing toe to toe, with Bruce being about an inch taller. Before Tony could crack a de-escalating joke, Talbot took a step back, eyes trained on Bruce’s austere expression. “I will let this slide, Captain Wayne, for the sake of the circumstances. In the future, you'd be better off containing yourself if you want to see this order coming your companies' way. Captain Stark, thank you for your services and have a speedy recovery. We'll be in touch. Good evening, gentlemen.”

Once they were alone, a silence set in, only interrupted by the continuous beeping of the heart rate monitor which seemed to fill the whole room. Tony cocked his head, trying to gauge his husband's sinister glare from where it was directed at something on the linoleum floors. “Erm, so. Would it help if I said I definitely didn't see this coming?” Bruce's jaw moved as he gritted his teeth.

“No.”

It was a growl. Tony scrunched up his face and gestured as much as he was able to.

“Would it help if I said I was sorry? Seeing I don't do that, usually, as you probably know, that-”

Anguish and barely-contained fury were written all over Bruce's face when he raised his head.

“Do you have any idea how it felt when that asshole called me to say you've been in an incident?”

His voice was low; gaze piercing and unblinking.

“How it felt when I didn't even have the faintest idea you'd be up there in that fucking death trap?”

Upon the undiluted venom in his voice, Tony swallowed.

“I...-”

Bruce's eyes narrowed.

“ _Any. Idea?”_

Blinking a few times in a row, Tony wet his lips and inclined his head with a click of the tongue.

“... kinda bad?”

The linoleum squealed as Tony watched his husband march to the door, posture rigid. He only paused to cast a dark look over his shoulder.

“Try again.”

With that, Bruce all but punched the door open and disappeared.

Once he was alone, Tony sunk back into the pillows with a sigh and ran a palm over his face, careful not to disrupt the electrodes.

+

Twenty minutes later, after Tony had stared at the white wall opposite his bed with a sour tug around the mouth, the door reopened. Bruce still looked miffed but at least shut the door behind him with composed motions. Staying quiet, Tony watched him fetch a chair from a seating arrangement in the corner. The chair scraped on the floor as Bruce placed it next to the bedside and dropped into it.

Their eyes met, and when Tony did not react in any way, Bruce reached over with a huge exhale and picked his hand off the blanket, albeit with caution. Cradling it in between both palms, he then pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Sorry.” It was merely a murmur. Tony's face softened. “Same.” Bruce's thumbs traced the inside of his wrist as he leaned his forehead against the back of his hand.

“Should've told me.”

“Would've talked me out of it.”

“Maybe.”

“Or claimed the seat yourself.”

Tony could feel the smallest, crooked grin against his knuckles.

“Maybe.”

“For sure.”

Tony then gently moved his occupied hand to be able to cup his husband's unshaven cheek.

“Take me home, Bats?”

“Gladly.”


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as the Gulfstream had reached its cruising altitude of 51,000 feet, Bruce unbuckled and fished a cozy blanket from a nearby storage compartment. He spread it out over the person across from him, who stopped watching the skies when he felt two fingers against his carotid.

“Babe. Ticker's fine, relax.”

Upon sensing Bruce’s wariness, Tony gently removed his hand, although not without pressing a kiss into its palm first.

“I’m good, 'kay? Bit tired, but good.”

With that, he pulled the blanket up and wrapped it around his body all the way up under his chin. Bruce resumed his seat, still looking troubled by the events of the past hours. After watching him for the longest time, Tony finally had mercy on him. “You want to know why.” Bruce’s lips twitched but remained quiet. His quirked eyebrow, however, spoke volumes. Tony exhaled. “See, I thought about stuff. Past stuff, actually."

The groomed eyebrow arched even higher.

"Meaning?"

"You being hurt by weapons my company made. Back then, at Balad.”

Bruce scrunched up his nose.

“That was something else entirely.”

Fisting the soft cashmere fabric in between his hands, Tony shook his head. “Not if Hammer Industries keeps on making these faulty shitvessels and endangers good pilots. I can’t stand aside and let that happen. Not with a clear conscience.” Instead of an answer, Bruce turned his head to look out of the window to his left. After a couple of heartbeats, he put his elbows upon the armrests and steepled his fingers.

“The supervisory board would not be in favor. Rightfully so. A legal and financial nightmare.”

Tony’s eyes turned solemn as they held his gaze. “I want the deal, Bats, but not for the money.” Bruce held his gaze for a few moments until he inclined his head. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow.” He cast a glance at the small screen embedded in the mahogany panel to his left, checking their current airspeed and ETA. “Try to sleep, I’ll wake you.” Tony snort-yawned into the creases of the blanket and snuggled a bit deeper into his seat.

“’m no old geezer.”

“Your daily afternoon nap ratio says otherwise.”

Smile curling at the edge of his mouth, Tony gave him a blanketed finger, eyes already drooping shut.

_~EPILOG~_

“Everything good and ready?”

Tony flipped a couple of switches to fully engage the Distributed Aperture System.

“Thunderball 1, affirmative.”

Bruce’s deep intake of breath filled the radio.

“Can't believe they let you choose the prototype name. What were they thinking.”

A couple more switches brought the F-35 up to a shuddering, deep hum.

“That I own this company, for starters?”

“Not this branch. Wayne Aerospace is a wholly-owned subsidiary of WE.”

A groan over the comm.

“How often are you gonna rub that one in?”

“As often as required.”

“Asshole.”

Bruce's lips parted in a roguish smirk.

“Don’t you know it.”

Tony must have heard the smile over the line because he chuckled.

“And don’t I love it. Any which way.”

“Crude. Better be on your best behavior if you want to keep flying any of my prototypes.”

“Get fucked, Bats.”

Bruce made an inquisitive sound.

“Intriguing concept. If you’re still... 'up' for it later on.”

“Oh-ho! Challenge accepted. Too bad you can’t see my raging boner from down there.”

“One - that’s actually a good thing. Two - better get your blood back into your other head, for safety measures. And three - get her ready for a quick supersonic dash. Nice and easy."

“Roger and copy.”

From his place in the small tower of their private hangar, Bruce readjusted his headphones and watched the sleek-looking aircraft gain momentum before it took off in the air with a powerful whoosh, heading for the coastal line of Malibu.

It had been a bit of a legal hassle, getting Wayne Enterprises to bully the whole F-35 issue out of Talbot’s jurisdiction, and renegotiate new distribution rights. Hammer Industries was out of the loop, and Wayne Aerospace had stepped in without a hitch, its CEO adamant about a couple of changes. As matters stood, Talbot's airbase was going to be one of the last ones in line to receive the brand new series of fighter jets.

The order of 144 F-35s had mysteriously been reassigned, and it was with great satisfaction that Captain Bruce Wayne had been able to grant one aircraft to his old 347th Recruiting Squadron in Milwaukee. The furious yelling of the Major over the line had been worth every step of the way, Bruce reminisced as he watched the gleaming tails of the fighter jet barrel through the skies.

No one messed with him or his husband was the message Talbot had received.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Music vid/inspo:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Lc5NFDKPqQ
> 
> Articles:  
> https://www.thedrive.com/the-war-zone/36970/all-the-ways-the-f-35-tried-to-kill-its-pilot-prior-to-eglin-afb-crash  
> https://www.popularmechanics.com/military/aviation/a30718538/f-35-flaws/
> 
> ... and some F-35 footage found on YT:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JP0TDw0m7Nc  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3aimm04SWU


End file.
